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Amie Annimal and Deanne are originally from the greater #LosAngeles/OrangeCounty area, and so the #rugger-hugger ladies are totally into going to watch one of their local #SanDiego men’s clubs play in a very small #Tustin tournament, with only six teams. Tustin is nestled among the inland, concrete freeways of Orange County.

This fave local men’s team has struck up quite a friendship with Streak, Amie and Deanne over the past couple years. They are really good friends.

Ryleigh is not sure, but she figures they possibly have had all sorts of #trysts amongst them with the more fun members of this men’s team. Maybe, maybe not.

Some are married. Some have girlfriends. It’s always been that way; the things she knows about most of these guys over the years would fry most people’s intelligence. It doesn’t matter. It is not her business to ask for the details. Nor for her to judge.

The sun is peeking through the clouds, but it’s still moist out. Streak gets
back, to a sigh of relief by Ryleigh. She watches Streak jump out of the
compact convertible, “Gosh, she musta froze her tushie off!”, shaking
her head with wonder.

Streak hops out of the Triumph, grabs her bag, gives Nathan a quick peck goodbye, steps back, blowing a kiss with her palm pressed to her lips. She then proceeds to continue kissing different spots traveling up her own arm, for a laugh.

They lose a day of their lives crossing the #InternationalDateline
that they’ll truly never, ever get back ever; so Streak intends to
make up for it. They’ve landed, and are at Baggage Claim. Streak grabs
Ryleigh and takes her aside.

“Hey, I’m going to spend the night and day with Nathan. This guy is so
sweet. We’ve had so much fun. I can’t let a good piece of ass like this get
away if I have the chance to have one more night with him. Wouldn’t you?”

Ryleigh does not know how to reply, having never been in this situation
before. She actually feels a bit of awe for Streak, even a bit impressed.
Ryleigh does not know what she would do. She cannot answer that
question yet.

Streak asks, “What’s the address and number of the hotel? He’ll bring
me there tomorrow.”

With her eyebrows arched, and a smile on her face, she gives Streak the pertinent details, and she adds, “Well, be sure to be here by 4pm, when we shove off, or we’ll have to leave without you and you’ll have to find us in the next city at your cost!”.

Streak answers, “Yeah, yeah, I know….if I’m not here on time, you’ll…”

Streak wants to move in unobstructed. The girls seem to have an unspoken
understanding to not step on each other’s toes when a covert action
hook-up is in progress.

Distracted, Amie just nods. Amie Annimal is having too much fun
drinking and partying with the rest of the #Surfers, and flirting with a few
#Aussie rugby players stopping in #NewZealand on their way home.

Amie Annimal and Deanne have jumped up to the front with the flight attendants and are mimicking the “safety-check” instructions. They are both a bit high on schrooms. The flight attendants don’t mind and go along with the silliness.

Ryleigh walks out into the warm, sunlight…feeling great! She doesn’t
know how to explain it to herself. She feels strangely free. Buoyant! She
marvels, “The fresh air feels great, and it’s so pretty here.” Dexter is not
around commanding her, telling her what to do.

She bops past an attractive guy, and he chirps, “Hi! How are you?!”
Ryleigh smiles and says hello back, responding to his flirting, “Good!
How about you!”…not really giving him a chance to say anything further.
She shifts her athletic bag on her shoulder and canters on.

Two others, as they cross paths, turn and watch her tush as she walks
away, poking each other, “Whoa, she’s foxy”…he stares another
moment, and then whispers….“She’s so fine, she could make coffee
grind.”

She hears them whisper, “Hmph! #DykesOnSpikes”, as she and
Streak walk by. Her head spins around slowly, like the clown-doll
in Poltergeist. This infuriates her.

Three years into the team, good and bad players come and go. Straight,
athletic chicks seem to evaporate more and more, as wussy husbands
and boyfriends coerce them into not playing anymore. Bellyaching at
them, “Oh Baby, you’re gonna get hurt!” #Dial1-800-Waaaaaa.

“This book will #bridgeGaps between opposites of all kinds, and possibly can eliminate anger through #CommonSense. It will open eyes to the back of your brain. The author #unites the unlikely, and prove #oppositesCanAttract. Some will judge the cover without reading it and say it is disrespectful to women. But it is quite the opposite. It proves the strength and #beautyOfAllWomen. This book is fantastic, back and front.”

They are sitting in the bleachers, out of town on a Sunday, about to
watch the final championship men’s match. The weather has
cleared up and it’s a warm, sunny, late spring day in #SouthernCalifornia.

“What the fuc…? Look at that!”, everyone echoes. They are pointing at
the field, down below. Laughter waves across the stadium, like a field of
flowers blowing in the breeze.

Ryleigh grabs the sleeve of one of her teammates sitting next to her, “Oh
my god, that’s soooo hilarious! Who is that!?”.

The first time Ryleigh set eyes on wild-child #Streak, she is living up to her
name. She and two guys are streaking #nude across the whole rugby pitch
just before the Men’s Finals of the Santa Barbara tournament, in front of
a whole stadium-filled crowd. The guys have paper bags over their
heads. Streak does not.

Streak is nubile and beautiful. And still innocent. She never expects
her first ménage a trois would be tonight. But it will.

She’s athletic and wild, and she doesn’t know Ryleigh yet. Orange
County has never been the same since Streak turned 21.

It’s near Christmas, and while partying at a local beach bar in Orange
County with her teammates, they get kicked out; hard to believe, since it
is a dive bar. But somehow they manage. So they go next door where
that new fad, karaoke, is going on.

The still very dry, short on patience, jealous locals are tired and cranky
from their day, and they applaud when the girls leave. Classic.